Spanish Rice
by thesoundofsunshine
Summary: Continuation of Silly Love Songs. Wes has a thing for Spanish rice, which leads to Santana delivering one of the corniest lines ever.


**This is a continuation of Silly Love Songs, so that's your spoiler warning. Anyway, let's pretend that Wes and Santana aren't horribly out of character; it's my first run at trying to characterize them. But, I just couldn't resist myself from writing this. Santana and Wes. I ship it... HARD.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything you recognize.**

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Now, Wes had seen Blaine Anderson go all out with his performances. He practically serenaded the spy with Teenage Dream. He used all of his theatricality tricks for Hey, Soul Sister at Sectionals. When I Get You Alone was a perfect example at how audacious Blaine could be when he was singing. Silly Love Songs was no exception to this rule. However, Wes thought that singing '_Sometimes it doesn't come at all_' to that one McKinley girl was too much.

This is how he ended up sitting across from her at her lonely table made for two, but seating one. She didn't seem to care that he was there, as he chatted jovially with David who was at the table over. He tried to invite her into their conversation, but she wasn't having it. He even refilled her drink, which pulled a small smirk out of the Latina.

It wasn't that Santana didn't care that the Asian boy was sitting across from her; she just had a crappy Valentine's Day. In fact, he had probably been the nicest guy she had ever met, which both excited and sickened her. Plus, he didn't seem to only be interested in staring at her chest. She was starting to think that there was something wrong with him.

"Guys, there are a ton of leftovers," Mercedes told the two choir groups, who paused for a second to mull this over, "Who wants to take what?"

Wes watched as a lot of the Warblers got up to pick what they wanted to take back for leftovers. He gave David a look, which was easily understood, so he didn't have to leave the McKinley girl alone.

"I'm Wesley Hughes," Wes said, extending an arm across the table, trying his best to be chivalrous, "But, I'll only answer to Wes."

"Santana Lopez," Santana said, with her signature smirk, not shaking hands with the Warbler. He smoothly flipped his hand to rest on the table top.

"Here you go," David said, placing a bowl with aluminum foil covering the top, "We should probably get back to Dalton."

Wes nodded in agreement with his friend, watching a couple of Warblers walk out of the establishment to start the trek back to Dalton. He shrugged into his jacket which was perched on the back of his chair.

"What have you got there?" Santana asked Wes, noticing Puck eyeing her up. She even managed to play it up a bit by placing her hand on his arm, which was cradling the covered bowl.

"Oh, the rice," Wes said, not caring how Oriental he might have sounded. He only cared about the way Santana's voice rolled off of her tongue, and the fact that she was actually talking after a very silent dinner.

"The Spanish rice?" Santana asked, pulling the other boy in hook, line, and sinker. Wes gave a simple nod, his mouth nearly salivating at the idea of the rice. Santana pursed her lips, before seductively letting out, "You like Spanish rice?"

Wes nodded, yet again, not trusting his tongue. I mean, the look of lust in her eyes was nearly enough to drive him wild. She ran her tongue over her teeth, preparing to deliver one of the corniest lines of her life.

"Do you like Spanish women?" Santana couldn't help herself from saying. Wes smiled back at the smirking girl.

"Depends," Wes coyly said, inviting the intrigued glance from the ex-Cheerio, "Do they all look like you?"

"Meet me here on Friday," Santana commanded, as Wes caught sight of David gesturing at him to hurry up so they could leave.

"Only if nothing better comes up," Wes played along, enjoying how easily teasing came to him. He had been on a love dry spell since his break up with Madison, the girlfriend that Blaine referred to when Kurt was playing the endearing spy.

"Wesley!" David shouted, his voice carrying though the emptying restaurant.

"I'm coming!" Wes shouted to his friend, who immaturely started to laugh at the proclamation; Wes rolled his eyes, before turning to Santana, "I'll see you on Friday."

With that said, Wes left with David, who was still giggling at his friend's choice of words, and a whirlwind of emotions blowing through Santana's insides. Was it just her, or was he actually looking at her face when talking? She smiled, knowing that she would have to sever plans with Brittany, who was probably better off with Wheelchair Kid anyway.

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**Meh. Anyone have any feedback? I'm all ears.**


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